


Cats, Idiots and Road Bikes

by remusirius



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Anal Sex, Andrew Minyard - Freeform, Blow Jobs, Don’t copy to another site, M/M, Making Out, Neil Josten - Freeform, and suggests he go running on the thread mill by hopping on his good leg, as he is not allowed to run, basically he is a junkie as we all well know, he is not happy, he probably tries to think of a way to play exy without his legs, idk i've never written that, maybe there'll be fluff?, neil is injured, nor play exy, reference to canon-typical non-con/violence might show up, talking about sex, they have cats, will add tags if I mention anything down that road more explicitly but I doubt it, will maybe add more sensible tags one day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-01-24 01:09:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18560854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remusirius/pseuds/remusirius
Summary: Neil sustains an injury that keeps him from playing exy (and from running) for a few months. Naturally, he does not take too well to it, but taking his therapist's advice to heart and an eventual idea of Andrew's make it more bearable.Read the tags they might give you a better idea of what's going to go on.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> The second chapter is half-written, feedback will probably be incentive to write more ;) hoping to get the next chapter up this week or next, and planning for the whole fic to be maybe around 3 or 4 chapters long.

„We’re sorry to inform you that your medial collateral ligament has ruptured. However, the good news is that your head has sustained no damage, nor any other body part”, the doctor told Neil.

Oh, how ironic, that the first time Kevin went skiing, he should take Neil down with him in a fall and fuck up his knee, Andrew mused. The only thing he could think of that would get this world laughing in their faces across more clearly would have been if Kevin had broken his hand in the process somehow, instead of damaging his- Neil’s knee.

Andrew paid close attention to the doctor’s instructions and brief mention of different treatment methods, suggesting Neil talk them over with a specialist closer to home as there was no need to rush a decision just yet, confident a certain idiot would try his best to ignore it all. When she made to leave, he ignored her outstretched hand, gazing levelly past her at the door, until she (surprisingly quickly) got the hint and left with another stern gaze at Neil. Seemed like she wasn’t entirely as ignorant as most. Then again, it did not take too much to pick up on Neil’s restlessness, and putting one and one (in this case, Neil being a highly successful exy player who was also known for taking parts in a marathon every now and then _for fun_ ) together, it really wasn’t that hard to guess that he would have trouble with-

“No running. How does she expect me to train then?” Neil asked, not directed at anyone in particular, Andrew mused. He was the only other person in the small room at the emergency ward of the hospital, and he sure as hell did not care.

A knock on the door warned them of someone entering a second before the door opened and an overly cheery blond nurse strolled in, carrying some cardboard boxes likely containing pain pills and ointment. Someone did not understand the concept of closed doors and knocking at all, but Neil shot Andrew a glance, silently asking him not to say anything. Andrew settled to glaring at the young man who turned to Neil upon that.

Neil likely wanted out of there as fast as possible, and while he was aware how Andrew hated overstepped boundaries like this one, Andrew also knew Neil did not care for people barging in either. ~~Or for people ignoring Andrew’s boundaries.~~

“You know about what treatment options you have and how to take care of you knee until you decide on one of them, right?” the nurse asked.

“Yes”, Neil lied, ever the convincing actor when he had to be. “Can I go home now?”

By way of answer, the nurse set the boxes down on the small table and left the room to fetch a wheelchair. Somehow, Neil’s not-so-cheery-and-fake-friendly demeanour seemed to have disheartened him. Had someone been hoping to flirt with a certain exy player, only just recently ranked one of the hottest professional athletes in the country, and expected Neil’s attitude and snarky remarks in each and every interview to be a mask?

Oh how sad that they had been disappointed. Not.

Really, was everyone as oblivious as Neil? Andrew thought it would have had to be obvious long ago, but now that he’d insisted and nearly picked a fight when they hadn’t let him in with Neil at first?

Andrew went to pick up the medication and then stood in front of Neil, who had inched to the edge of the stretcher where they’d had him lie down when they’d brought them into the room, obviously intent on getting up and walking out before the nurse came back with the wheelchair.

“You’re not walking anywhere”, Andrew declared. “I’ll pick you up to put in in the wheelchair.” A wheelchair that was just being pushed in, what spectacular timing. Andrew gave Neil a searching look, giving him a moment to object. When Neil didn’t, nodding once instead to signal he was alright with this, Andrew picked him up and set him down gently in the wheelchair before the nurse even thought to interfere. “We’ll be fine”, Andrew said and got them out of there and back to their hotel.

 

**

 

That night, Andrew did not sleep well. Nightmares of Drake kept taking turns with his brain replaying the memory of Neil falling down in the snow, and that horrible snapping sound when the ligament in his knee had snapped. Not that Andrew had known that at the time, he just saw Kevin fall, and Neil standing in the wrong spot, there for Kevin to take him down. And then that snapping sound. In Andrew’s nightmares, it was Neil’s neck snapping, and Neil never got up again like he had in reality after only seconds.

Save to say, when he woke for the n-th time that night, to realize Neil lay right there beside him, and that, thankfully, he hadn’t woken him for once, he gave up on trying to fall back asleep when a glance at his phone told him it was five in the morning. Soon enough, Neil would wake up, alarm or no alarm, and want to go running. Andrew would not let him out of his sight. Not again.

Nor more than ten feet away, for the record. Look at what had happened when he let the idiot and Kevin get further away, for them to enjoy skiing through some untouched snow off the slope, while he would have taken the way around on the slope. He was no junkie, not for exy and not for ‘fresh snow’, unlike the two idiots.

As predicted, Neil stirred awake not even twenty minutes later, and tried to sneak out of the bed.

“Don’t even try”, Andrew said. “No running, or has your rabbit brain already forgotten what they told you yesterday?”

Neil did not say anything in reply, flopping back down onto his back. It wasn’t until he drew in a shuddering breath that Andrew realized Neil was worse off than he’d thought. Worse off than he’d fooled himself into thinking over the night, looking over at Neil’s form lying next to him.

Of course Neil could not handle not being able to go running. Not being able to train, to play exy, junkie that he was.

“Neil.” No reaction. Andrew placed his hand on the back of Neil’s neck and tried again. “Neil. Take a deep breath.” This time, he got through.

 

**

 

“I want to go home”, Neil heard himself say. He did not know how long he’d been lying there, on the queen sized bed in their hotel room, aware of nothing other than the need to get out, to _run_. And of Andrew’s hand on the back of his neck, more and more.

He did not know why he said it. Their skiing holiday was booked for another four days. It wasn’t like there was anything he could to at home that he couldn’t here. Wasn’t like there was anything he could do at all.

No running, they’d said, after all. He’d zoned out after that.

Andrew wouldn’t let him break their rules, either way.

“Alright.” Andrew got up and out of the bed, turning to face him again once he was standing next to it. “You should be fine to move around a little, according to the doctor.”

Neil could not entirely be angry with Andrew for assuming he had not listened to the doctor the day before, not when this had happened before and Andrew…. Well, was Andrew, and had got to know him so well over the past years.

“Just as long as I avoid any sudden movements and too heavy a weight on the injured leg, I’m sure”, Neil said, tone a bit sarcastic.

Andrew did not deign to answer, instead leaving the room to go into the small adjacent living room that had come with their suite. It paid to be on a pro team, apparently. After a while, Neil heard a knock on their door and Andrew talking to room service about them leaving earlier than planned. Soon after, Andrew returned to their room with two cups of coffee

“Is Kevin alright?” Neil asked after Andrew had handed him his cup, taking a sip and promptly burning his tongue. Andrew took the cup away from him again and set it down on the bedside table.

“He got off with a shock. Thea arranged to come here yesterday, she’ll arrive this morning. He won’t be on his own.”

Reassured from a bad conscience he had not even fully realized he’d started to have for breaking off their holiday early, Neil returned to packing.

As soon as he was done packing, Andrew returned Neil’s coffee to him and told him to stay put sitting on the bed while he went down to the reception to let them know of their departure.

For once, Neil complied. His knee actually felt sore despite the one pain pill Andrew had made him take last night and the generous amount of ointment he’d put on his knee both last night and this morning. Best not to push it now, maybe he’d be able to get some exercise whenever they’d put in a stop on the drive home, or once they got there.

Once back to their suite, Andrew picked up his and Neil’s bags and ignored Neil’s protest, leading the way out and down into the hotel’s parking lot.

When they’d been on the road for about an hour, Neil’s phone rang, to his surprise not yet out of battery despite him having ignored it for the last twenty-four hours or so. Kevin’s name flashed across the screen.

All Neil wanted to do was ignore or, better even, decline the call, but he knew he’d have to go through this anyway, so why push it off?

“Hi Kevin.” Andrew turned his head to look at him for a second at that, then refocused on the road.

“Neil… Uh, how are you?”

“I’m fine.” Neil could all but see Andrew roll his eyes without even having to take his own off the road.

“How bad is it? Are you going to play again?” Kevin wanted to know.

“I… I don’t know.” The question hadn’t occurred to Neil. Of course he was going to play again. Tomorrow early on, ideally. Or was he? Why would Kevin ask such a thing? Maybe this was way more serious than- no, it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

Andrew grabbing his phone and snarling into it brought him back to the present. “Well done, Kevin. Now fuck off.” With that, Andrew hung up and tossed the phone to the car’s back.

“Kevin is an idiot”, Andrew said.

“I thought that was me.”

“He doesn’t even know what the doctor said”, Andrew continued, undeterred, and then didn’t speak another word until he pulled into a rest stop and asked Neil what he wanted from the shop.

“I’m coming with you”, Neil insisted, sitting up straight from his slumped, half-asleep position.

“No you’re not.

“You’re not my mother”, Neil said.

“Yes I am if you keep behaving as though you did not fall under Kevin and rupture a ligament in your knee just about this time yesterday”, Andrew said and grabbed their reusable mugs (a gift from Renee) and his wallet. “Tea or coffee, and what food?” he asked as though Neil had never objected.

Andrew asking him what food he wanted was quite an event in and of itself, Neil mused. Normally, he’d have been lucky to get a protein bar or a fruit. Maybe he should play along, for now… Andrew obviously seemed to be more concerned than he’d usually let on.

“Fine. Tea. Protein bars and apples”, Neil sighed and slouched back down in his seat. Andrew nodded and left, grabbing a cloth bag (another gift from Renee) before he closed the door.

Neil let his gaze drift over the parking lot, trying to make the time pass faster by observing the area. Besides, it never hurt to be on the lookout, even with his father dead and most of his people either in grave as well or behind bars. Even though it had all been quiet for a few years now.

When his eyes wandered back to the immediate surroundings of their car, he spotted a small black cat. It looked to be on the thin side – no, actually, it was too thin, he reckoned. Its eyes seemed hungry, and its fur was a bit matted. There was no sign of a collar around its neck.

Before he fully realized what he was doing, Neil was standing outside, next to the car, crouching down (on his left, good leg while balancing the right one in front of him because bending that knee was _not_ a good idea at the minute) such as not to further startle the cat.

It definitely looked underweight from up close. Maybe they had some cat food left in the glove compartment. Heaving himself up again with his hands and leaning onto his seat to search for food, he had to give up soon and return to the cat empty-handed.

It gave him a haughty look down its nose despite him still being taller, crouched down to his best efforts as he was.

“I’m sorry. I had hoped…” He trailed off. The cat gave him a distinctly pissed of meow and remained sitting where it was. “Alright, stay put”, Neil said, hoping there was no one nearby to overhear him talking to the cat. He pulled himself to his feet with help of the car’s frame again and started slowly shuffling off towards the store. His knee hurt more than it had this morning. Wasn’t rest supposed to help with healing? That’s what they said, anyway. Maybe they had no clue. A walk would do him some good.

He’d made it two thirds to the store when Andrew appeared in his field of vision, approaching much more rapidly than Neil. “What part of ‘stay put’ do you not understand?” Andrew demanded to know.

“There’s a cat. I wanted to get it some food.”

“305%. Stay here.” Andrew handed him the bag and mugs and turned around, walking back into the store to return a few minutes later with a tin of cat food.

“That cat of yours better still be there”, he said as he lifted the bag from where it leaned against Neil’s left leg and their cups from his hands, handing Neil the cat food in return.

It was, still sat in the same spot and position as if turned to stone, if not for its eyes tracking Neil’s every movement.

Neil crouched down as best as he could again and opened the tin, glad the lid didn’t leave any sharp or jagged edges when coming off. The cat eyed him almost warily as he set the food down then retreated a bit, but hunger soon got the upper hand.

“We should take them with us”, Neil said to Andrew when about half the food had been devoured.

“’We’ are doing no such thing. However, if you want to hold onto a black fur ball full of lice and worse things while sitting in the back seat, feel free to do so”, Andrew replied. “Besides, what to do with that cat then? Take it home? It might belong to someone, so walk into the nearest police station to have them take care of it?”

Neil had to admit the latter did not appeal to him too much. Nor did the possible lice, if he was honest. But to leave the cat behind? He couldn’t help but imagine what might happen to them? What if they starved? Got kicked by people? Driven over? Ended up in a shelter much worse than the one they’d picked King and Sir up from? Resigning himself to hours of struggling, scratched arms and possibly lice, he was about to pick up the cat when he remembered about the foldable plastic box they had in the trunk of the car.

It was not ideal, but most likely far preferable over an hours long embrace or death in a parking lot. And it wasn’t made of solid walls but rather had many holes, almost like a sieve.

“Andrew, can you get me the plastic box form the trunk?” he called. “And my skiing jacket, too.”

“You’ll still have to figure out a way to find out if it has any owners”, Andrew reminded him as he came to stand behind him with the requested items. “And I am not walking into a police station with you for a stupid cat. And no, you’re not allowed to go on your own with that injured knee.” With that, he set the items down and retreated a few steps.

Lucky for Neil, as he would have been in no position to chase the cat, they came closer to him once they’d finished devouring their meal and let themselves be picked up fairly well.

Once the cat was in and the jacket over the top of the box, Andrew picked it up again and put it into the car’s trunk, securing the jacket as well as possible (he might not care about his idiot getting his face scratched by the stupid creature, but he did not want to risk the cat getting out and damaging the car’s interior).

Content, Neil picked up the empty food tin to throw away when he got a good chance, and climbed back into the car. “You know, I just remembered Katelyn mentioning something about an online service for found pets. To see if they belong to someone and are wanted there, still”, he said when they were back on the road.

Andrew gave him an unimpressed look and picked up his coffee to take a sip.

 

**

 

The next time Andrew stopped the car, it was in the parking lot of their apartment building. Tired from sitting still for so long, and all the excitement in the last two days, Neil just wanted to get to his bed and attempted to pick up the cat in the box to save Andrew having to do two trips to get everything. He wasn’t that surprised when Andrew gave him a flat look for that.

“You can open the door and get the other fur balls locked away so this one hear does not start a fight the moment I enter with it”, he said, tone suggesting that Neil better not argue with him.

Fine.

Neil led the way to their apartment, unlocked the door and had a hard time not tripping over King Fluffkins and Sir Fat Cat McCatterson as he entered, used as these two were to him being a lot more agile.

Cooing, he got them to follow him into the bedroom, where he shut the door and then leaned against the wall next to it, taking weight off his right leg and enjoying in the feeling of the cats stroking around his legs, before Sir felt he needed more attention and jumped up onto his shoulder – not without sinking his claws into Neil’s side in the process.

That was how Andrew found him when he opened the bedroom door, eyes closed and stroking Sir’s neck.

“You and your neck fetish. Not even the cats are safe”, he commented and dropped their bags off to the ground. “Your newest adoption case is in the spare bedroom. In the big transport box, because it might have something contagious.”

Andrew wouldn’t have needed to tell him where the cat was, King and Sir running off towards the shut door was a clear sign of where the black cat had been put.

“Get some sleep. Adams has texted you that you’re to see a specialist at 8 tomorrow morning.”

Adams was their coach, and apparently Andrew really was his mum, having told the coach of his injury and all else before he even got a chance to think that far. Neil figured sleep might not be the worst idea.

 

**

 

“In essence, you have two options”, the specialist, Dr. Hugs, told Neil. He was a thin, tall man with a slightly tanned face framed by dark blond short hair streaked with white. He was in his fifties and so around Neil’s father’s age (if the bastard had still been alive), and Neil was utterly grateful that Andrew had yet again tagged along and insisted on listening in on the appointment. While his first priority in doing so must have been to make sure Neil did not ignore any and all of what he was told by the doctor, maybe Andrew had also expected the specialist to be of a demographic that would keep Neil from feeling fully at ease in his presence.

“Option 1: Operation. We put you under in general anaesthesia and reattach the two torn apart pieces of ligament.” Neil started zoning out at ‘general anaesthesia’ and did not listen to the details of how the surgery would be happening. While his mother would have argued that this could be handy knowledge, she was long gone and her words a mere memory, not orders, most times. And it wasn’t likely that he would ever be in the position where he had to do this to himself or another person, let alone being able to do even a half-decent job of it. It was probably a lot more complicated and skill-demanding than stitching a wound closed.

Neil started paying attention again in time to hear Dr. Hugs say “the downsides of this procedure are the risks associated with any general anaesthesia and surgery, such as infection. The chances of these are very low, however. Furthermore, there is a need to use crutches for a few weeks, at least two, after surgery.

“Now for the other option”, the man continued when neither Andrew nor he commented on the surgery explanations. “Instead of operating, we just fix the knee with special plasters and you continue to use your leg as normal for non-strenuous and approved exercise such as walking and cycling.

“Definitely no running”, he added at Neil hopefully perking up at his last words. Neil sank back down in his chair, trying not to appear like he was sulking.

Judging from the look Andrew sent him when Dr. Hugs looked away from them at the computer screen likely displaying Neil’s file, he did not succeed.

“It says here you’ve never been injured during your career at professional exy this far”, Dr. Hugs said, seemingly without any sensible context. Neil nodded while Andrew muttered under his breath about stupid junkies playing in games they should have been benched for due to strained ankles and the like.

“Well, consider yourself lucky you’ve been fine so far. You’ll be back to playing in no time, once your knee’s healed up.”

“And how long will that take?” Neil wanted to know. Maybe there was hope.

“That depends on the treatment option as –“

“I want the non-surgical one”, Neil insisted. “Yes, I am sure”, he added at the doctor looking like he was about to protest and demand that Neil sleep it over before deciding. “And no, I do not wish to talk it through with someone or sleep over the decision first.” He was not going into general anaesthesia and on to at least two weeks on crutches if he could avoid it.

“Alright. In that case, three to four, maybe five months, I’d say, for someone your age and overall health and fitness”, Dr. Hugs said. “I will still give you the remaining details on the procedure, even if you appear have already made up your mind.”

Neil listened half-attentively, perking up the mentions of him being allowed to walk around (without crutches) and cycle (it was a long way from running, but at least a way to tire himself out).

Finally, the doctor fixed up Neil’s knee with some special plasters meant to aid in stabilization where the torn ligament should have done so, gave him a prescription for more pain pills once the current ones would run out (not likely, but what was the use of telling the man _that_?), and they were out of there around 10 in the morning, just in time for morning practice to be over.

As they walked out of the building, Neil was pleased to note that the plasters did indeed help. He felt more secure on his feet than before, although there was still quite some pain, especially at some movements.

 

**

 

Because they had missed morning practice that day, Neil insisted on going to the afternoon one, never mind the fact that no medical authority had cleared him to step onto a court and start training.

Telling himself it was to get the idiot to shut up, Andrew let him tag along when he went to practice.

“Neil, how are you?” Livia Cook, one of their assistant coaches, exclaimed when they entered the stadium and she spotted them. “You’re walking, that’s a relief”, she continued and went to hug him, as least making it brief when she seemed to notice that Neil did not really like hugs. The fact that she still tried to hug him after months and her overall behaviour and desire to protect Neil reminded Andrew a bit of Dan.

Then again, maybe it was just his brain searching for similarities since her and Dan were about the only two women coaching on actual decent teams at the moment.

Exy definitely still had a way to go until it was a sport treating all genders equally.

“I’m fine”, Neil replied. “What’s on the program for this afternoon?”

“Oh no, you are not stepping out onto court”, Coach Adams said before Andrew could open his mouth to say much the same thing.

“I can walk just fine”, Neil protested.

“Yes, _walk_ ”, Andrew said. “Doctor Hugs also said: No intense activities _such as running_ ¸ or is your idiot brain’s short term memory even worse than I thought?” he continued, reminded once again that, yes, his idiot apparently also had a very selective memory. Not that that was anything new, really. When Neil just smiled at him in _that_ way, he turned away, disgusted, telling himself how much he hated the idiot, and started off towards the changing room. He was not excused from training, after all.

“Meet me in my office, Josten”, he heard Adams say as he walked away. “Now”, Adams insisted when Neil probably looked like he wanted to run after Andrew. Andrew hated how his perfect memory presented him with an exact image of what Neil’s expression was likely to be at that moment.

Somehow, Andrew got through practice, which was even more boring than usual without an idiot junkie scoring on him (or trying his best to) and insulting / teasing him in several different languages.

When he couldn’t yell “I hate you” and “200%” at anyone in Russian. Because they would not understand. When he could not try his best at French and be laughed at by a redhead with an affinity for languages, when he could not even say something in German because there was another player on their team who spoke the language, and he doubted coach would let him insult the others so blatantly.

When he was finally released form the dreadful activity and emerged from the showers he found Neil waiting on a couch in their ‘common room’ at the stadium.

“250%”, Andrew informed him in Russian as they walked out.

“I thought you’d love practice without me. No one to call out your flaws, hardly anyone to score on you”, Neil teased.

While that was true, if a bit exaggerated, Andrew was fed up with the other strikers on the team not even really trying to score on him, whether it was out of fear or because they thought there was no point, and of no one daring to point out mistakes to him at times. No one but Neil, and Coach Adams, who had been mainly absent today, that was. Did they think he would just improve out of thin air? They seemed to want to become the best pro team in the country, wanted to prove they were worthy of Court (which Andrew did not care for and Neil would be before the end of the year, rumour had it. Or would have been, he supposed. Now, it was for them to wait and see).

So then they should work for it, think of new ideas to score, to improve, to make him work for defending the goal, and helping him improve, in return.

But they were all morons, weren’t they?

“Where’s the fun in practice if I don’t get to insult you?” Andrew settled for. “Or when there is no Kevin pointing out my endless flaws and laziness and wrong diet?” Andrew had been on the same pro team as Kevin, but had made sure that ended after not even a year and joined the one he was on now, with Neil getting drafted for this one half a year or so ago after a few years with the one who had signed him right after college.

“However did you survive those two years without me on this team?” Neil teased.

Andrew knew when he was fighting a losing battle, and this was one. He’d let Neil back him into that corner and there was no use trying to argue his way out.

Pulling into the garage, he parked the car and leaned over the centre console to press his lips onto Neil in a bruising kiss, releasing him after a few moments to glare at him in an attempt to wipe away the sappy smile.

When Neil only stared at him in return, he finally gave up and got out of the car.

Back in the apartment, he was reminded of another nuisance in his life: the black cat Neil had insisted on picking up.

“Have the little devil’s owners turned up yet?” he asked, nodding towards the shut spare bedroom door to indicate who he was talking about.

“No”, Neil replied. “I only set up the entry that I’ve found her today, though. I’ll take her to the vet tomorrow and then maybe she can get out of there. She hates it in there.”

“You pay for the damage repair that’ll have to be done once you let nuisance and crazy loose on the devil”, Andrew warned him.

“Of course”, Neil sang and went to feed the little devil and her (if Neil was correct) soon to be friends (or enemies), cooing at the black cat when he entered the room.

He really did not know why he put up with this.

 

**

 

Of course, Neil tagged along to their morning practice the next morning.

“You’re not going running”, Andrew informed him as they sat in the car, Neil drinking some horribly fruit smoothie from his travel mug while Andrew had his filled with good coffee.

“The doctor said cycling was fine, and Adams agreed that I should do as much exercise as I can at the moment to stay in form.” And also to keep the junkie from going insane, though Andrew doubted their coach was aware quite how much Neil still relied on running (and exy) for that.

Once there, Neil sat onto an indoor cycling device, looking at the treadmills with a longing gaze until Andrew told him “don’t even try” in Russian.

That seemed to settle him (for now) and he started cycling on the spot while Andrew, confident that nothing too dramatic would happen in the next hour or so, went to lift weights.

After they were done working out and had showered, they went back home to pick up the black cat and take her to the vet, where she got checked for lice (none, miraculously), contagious diseases (none, either) and a microchip (nothing there as well).

“Well, chances are high she has no owners”, the vet said. She had verified that the cat was, in fact, a she, at least as far as they could tell without being able to ask her about her gender identity. “She seems to have been out in the wild for a while, judging from her tough build, but she hasn’t picked up any diseases or anything.

“Maybe she was even born wild, or half-wild. Who knows? Keep checking for potential owners to show up, but I highly doubt it.”

“How so?” Neil wanted to know.

“She is a very beautiful cat. If she got away, people would be searching for her a lot, I think. And then she would also probably have been microchipped. So I think she never really lived with humans very closely. Maybe she was born on a small farm or something, with lots of other cats, and got to know humans, and then decided to leave at some point.

“Would you like to get her microchipped?”

Neil looked at Andrew. “You wanted to keep her, not me”, Andrew told him. “You get to decide all the fun stuff. And pay for it.”

“We’ll have her microchipped”, Neil said.

Two hours later, they returned to their apartment, cat microchipped and wormed by the vet (just in case), Andrew carrying a new cat-tree because he would not let Neil carry anything so heavy in his state.

King and Sir all but attacked their new ‘friend’ (yes, that would turn out just great, wouldn’t it?), only for the black cat to have a hissy fit and scratch at both their faces until they left her alone (for now).

Somehow, Andrew could see why Neil had wanted to keep that one so badly. Birds of a feather flocked together, after all.

“She needs a name”, Neil commented and picked up the little devil.

“Little devil”, Andrew suggested. Somehow, he would not be surprised if Neil did not go with that suggestion, just as they hadn’t named ‘nuisance’ and ‘crazy’ the way he had suggested, instead going  with Nicky’s suggestions in the end.

“And there goes you chance to have a say in the matter. I think I’ll leave it to Matt and Dan this time, I don’t think they could come up with something worse than what Nicky did.”

Especially considering that only Sir was actually a guy, at least Matt and Dan would probably not insist that their newest pain in the ass was trans as well. (That had been Nicky’s defence for coming up with such a shitty name for King).

Neil, with his laptop under his arm, went into the spare bedroom where the new cat had hidden, probably to skype with Matt and ask him for name suggestions.

He emerged an hour later, beaming at Andrew and coming over to where he was sat on the couch in their living room, reading a book and eating ice cream.

“Well?” Andrew gave in and asked.

Neil held out his hands and set the black cat down on Andrew’s lap. “Meet Miss Manic Monica”, he exclaimed with an expression like a proud parent.

“And you tell me I can’t call her little devil”, Andrew stated.

“You’ll call her whatever you want anyway”, Neil retorted, and he probably had a point. “Matt and Dan insisted after she attacked first the potted plant – which, I’m sorry to inform you, not looks a bit worse for wear – then the curtains and lastly me when she felt I did not give her enough attention.”

“We’ll call her Miss or Moni or something”, Neil suggested. “And maybe if we officially put down Monica, they won’t give us as much shit again at the registration office.”

Hadn’t that been something, though? Neil fighting it out verbally with the people behind the desk who a) refused to have cats have names consisting of several words without good reason (the only ‘good reason’ being that the cat was a purebred cat of some sort which their rescue cats were bound no to be) and b) have a female cat be named ‘ _King_ Fluffkins’.

Neil had won, and it had actually been amusing to watch, since for once Andrew had not been worried that the antagonized people would do something such as pull a weapon on Neil.

“No, I think we should go with the full name”, Andrew said in memory of that day.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil hanging around bored at home and Kevin with a guilty conscience go together about as well as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! (I think I might be the most delighted of all at this as I have a tendency to abandon WIP's after a chapter or so.) BUT the first few lines of chapter 3 as well as ideas as to what will go into it already stand, so I'm confident this will be different.  
> You might notice that I've changed the rating to explicit. There is a more graphic make out /sex scene towards the end of this chapter and I don’t think it’ll be the last one. But it also won’t be the main focus of this work.  
> Enjoy! (and let me know what you think)

It wasn’t that Neil relied on running to keep his sanity any more, like it had been back at the start at Palmetto State.

It was more like it was his way of dealing with everything.

Well, maybe it also kept him a bit sane to this day, Andrew corrected himself as Neil babbled nonsensical – more nonsensical than usual – sounds at their newest family member.

Andrew re-evaluated this conclusion when Neil caught up to him as he was tying up his shoe laces in the hallway, about to leave for their workout session with Andrew.

“Maybe I can just walk on the treadmill?” Neil suggested. “Or like, hop on my right leg? I’m quite good at that.”

“No. You’ll just start running at some point and you know this as well as I do. Besides, Adams would have your head off for showing up when you are meant to be taking this break as a mental break from exy and training overall, too.”

That was one of the things their coach had told Neil in the past three weeks, when it had become clear that all the best efforts might still be not quite enough to keep Neil from an exy court or treadmill (or, worse even, running around outside on his injured knee). It was also a much needed try at keeping Neil from going up the walls from sheer boredom and feeling useless, not that Andrew was too certain there was anything to do that job for the long months it would still take until Neil’s knee was well enough for him to even go running again, let alone playing exy.

Leaning a little into Neil’s space, Andrew noted Neil’s slight answering tilt forward and kissed him goodbye before leaving their apartment, shoving the image of Neil’s disappointed expression out of his mind. It was not his problem, he tried to tell himself, but somehow the treacherous part of him that belied this had grown over the past years.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and skimming over Kevon’s message reminded him that even should he choose to believe himself again that Neil was not his problem to worry and care about, other people would still try and convince him otherwise.

Kevin was suggesting Neil watch old games during his time off (why he was telling this Andrew, Andrew did not know), as well as maybe think of new drills and / or tactics for their team.

Kevin wasn’t even on their team. It spoke volumes about his guilty conscience that he would go as far as suggesting he come to visit them and go over strategy with Neil in his upcoming three-day-break, ignoring the fact that they were on different teams that had quite the rivalry between them and that Thea would have his head off if he ditched her like he was apparently considering.

Andrew did not deign Kevin’s plans with a reply.

 

**

 

A few hours later, Andrew would have been seriously tempted to regret this course of action, had he believed in regret.

While he’d been at their team’s morning gym session, his phone had blown up with messages and missed calls, lying in his locker as their coach demanded all their phones do.

There were a few missed calls from Kevin, one from Neil and a text from Neil asking Andrew if he’d help him hide the body if he killed Kevin.

Suppressing a frustrated growl only because it would draw his teammates’ unwanted attention, he settled for some heavy eye-rolling and headed to the showers, determined to wash up and get back home as quickly as possible before Neil actually killed Kevin and he’d have to deal with the hysterics, cleaning up and hiding a body that would bring along. Or so he kept telling himself as he rushed through showering and getting dressed, then walked briskly to his car and driving home, not wanting to admit he might even miss the exy-maniac bastard if Neil had offed him. A tiny bit.

“Where’s the body?” Andrew asked when he entered their apartment. There was no response. The slight unease that had overcome him when he’d found the apartment door locked turned into something much nastier when, apart from the cats running around and towards him, there was no movement, no sign of anyone else.

No body or mess to clean up, on the bright side.

No sign of Neil on the other hand.

Swearing, Andrew dropped the bag containing his sports gear and rushed back out into the hallway, only just pausing to lock the door, calling Neil’s phone at the same time.

Neil, of course, did not pick up. Andrew hoped that – but no, hope would lead him nowhere.

Sitting in his car with nowhere to start his search, he called Kevin, who did actually pick up.

“Where’s Neil?” Andrew asked in lieu of a greeting.

“I don’t know”, was Kevin’s response. “You’re the one living with him.”

“Shut up. You two had a fight.” It was a shot in the dark, but not a terribly wild guess. Andrew started the car, putting the phone on speaker so as to have one hand free for smoking. But that was a habit he’d kicked a few years back, and thanks to one idiot he was looking for now, there was not a single cigarette to be found anywhere in his car.

“He was being unreasonable”, Kevin insisted. “I only said he-“

“I don’t care what you said or think he should be doing at the moment”, Andrew interrupted. “Did he say anything to you before hanging up that might point me as to where to start the search?”

“Not really. We… “

“Yes?” Andrew demanded.

“I might have shouted at him”, Kevin said reluctantly. “And then he shouted back, and we both said some nasty things, and then he hung up.”

“That was how long ago?”

“Two hours, roughly.”

That did not add up, Neil’s text had only come in about an hour ago.

“Let me guess: you called him again”, Andrew concluded.

Kevin’s silence was answer enough. At least he did not say once more how Neil ‘was unreasonable’. Which Neil definitely was, but Kevin possibly even more so, and in no position to go provoking Neil about those things until he did something as stupid as run away from the situation.

Which was what had literally happened, Andrew was quite willing to bet.

“Listen, I’ve got to go”, Kevin said. “Let me know if you find him, or… or if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Andrew hung up the phone. Now for the fun part of finding a moving needle in a haystack.

There was not much finding happening all afternoon, and eventually, as the sun started to set and the light was fading too much, Andrew made himself return home. Checking the messages on his phone for the first time all afternoon at a red light, he had a few from Kevin, which he ignored, and one from Renee, wanting to know if she should call him. He texted her that he’d call her in twenty minutes, ignoring the angry honking behind him when the light turned green and he remained standing still, then speeding across just before it turned red again to piss off those behind him a bit more.

A small hope had grown somewhere in his chest against all his best efforts and died a quick death when he found the apartment locked, its interior dark and – aside from the cats – empty.

Grabbing some ice cream from the freezer – his dietician would try to kill him, but she’d never know without someone (Kevin or, occasionally, Neil) ratting him out – he made his way to the couch, shooed away Sir who was spread all over the best corner and pulled out his phone to call Renee.

She was in the midst of telling him about her day’s work with the Peace Corps when he heard a faint sound from the apartment door.

“Hang on”, he interrupted and put the phone down.

 

**

 

Neil was tired. He’d been walking around the city for the better part of the afternoon without drinking a drop or getting something to eat. He kept telling himself he’d been though worse when on the run with his mother, but somehow, that did not help. It just reminded him he could not literally run at the moment. Not for lack of trying, he’d all but sprinted out of the apartment complex around noon, but the growing pain in his knee had soon forced him to stop and settle for a walk instead. Thankfully, the awful throbbing had faded as his heartbeat had slowed down.

He hadn’t even thought to grab his wallet or a really warm jacket when he’d left. He was – he did not know what he would call himself right then, but he was not made for a life on the run anymore. Not the person his mother would have wanted him to be. On good days, that knowledge sat somewhere in his unconscious, drowned out by percentages, the sound of balls ricocheting off walls and cats meowing, demanding food or attention.

Today, it was all he could hear. That, or Kevin’s voice, telling him what he should do, how he should stay in shape, mentally and physically. Which reminded him that he had to remain a valuable asset to the Moriyamas, or else.

Eventually, he remembered the twenty-dollar bill that he’d tucked into his phone’s case ages ago. His phone that, despite everything, he had not forgotten. Andrew had succeeded in that, it seemed, more than his mother or anyone else trying to get him to make a habit of something ever had.

Andrew.

He should probably tell him that he was fine. But apparently his phone’s battery had died somewhere along the way.

Starting to shiver in the setting sun, Neil realized he needed to get a grip on reality again. It had been hours without him giving a sign of life to anyone he knew. Maybe he could find a pay phone and let Andrew know – but he had never memorized Andrew’s number, certain he’d be able to keep his phone, thinking the time of burner phones was past. How foolish.

_Stop it_ , he told himself. It would not help to beat himself up over having let slide habits he did not usually have a need for any more.

Looking around confirmed to him that he had indeed zoned out a lot while walking, he was standing at a crossway, none of the streets going into it looked familiar and he could not even recall which one he’d walked along. They were not entirely empty, but he figured he’d rather walk around some more and try to find a familiar area again before he resorted to asking anyone for directions or where he was.

Luckily, walking around open-eyed soon led him to a bus stop with an overview of bus lines.

It wasn’t too bad. There should be a bus leaving in fifteen minutes, taking him to their home in about twenty minutes from then.

Over the street, there was a small Indian take-away. Hoping to bribe Andrew with food, he went in and bought a portion of a spicy (for himself) and not so spicy but containing pineapple and mango (for Andrew) curry, as well as some rice pudding (needless to say who for) for dessert.

He just made the bus and devoured the water he’d picked up as well, glad to at least have something to fill his growling stomach until he got home.

Getting out of the warm bus and into the rapidly cooling evening was not made any more fun with half a litre of cold water sloshing around in his stomach, yet he knew he’d desperately needed the hydration. Besides, walking would keep him warm. Running even more so, but he should probably really not provoke things, he was lucky if he hadn’t further damaged something already. Shoving all thoughts of running aside, Neil settled for as brisk a walk has his knee supported and soon found himself in the semi-warm staircase leading up to their apartment.

As he opened the door, he thought he heard a faint murmur from their living room. Staying in the hallway to take off his shoes and jacket, he heard footsteps and then saw Andrew walking towards him in the dim light falling into their apartment from the outside.

“What percentage am I at?” he dared to ask.

“You do not even know the corresponding number”, Andrew replied.

“Oh, I believe I do, I took maths at college, remember?” As opposed to Andrew, he did not say.

“I would tell you again that no one likes a smart mouth still, but you seem to be resistant”, Andrew drawled.

“Only because you are not credible when you say that”, Neil retorted and suppressed a smug smile when Andrew pushed him against the wall, leaning forward in anticipation and confirmation.

Andrew’s lips on his were hard, almost bruising. He kissed Neil almost like he was fighting him, or like was trying to reassure himself that Neil was really there, judging from the way he gripped his shoulder. Probably both.

He carefully, lightly placed a hand on Andrew’s shoulder, and when there was no reaction other than Andrew softening his lips the tiniest bit, placed his other hand there was well.

“I’m sorry I disappeared without a note. And with my phone’s battery dead”, Neil said when they let go of each other.

“Next time, charge your phone before you have a mini-meltdown”, Andrew suggested. “Or, better yet, don’t take Kevin seriously.

“Is that curry?” Andrew nodded to the bag of food sitting next to Neil’s feet. When Neil nodded, he grabbed the bag and disappeared into the living room. “Bring some forks with you”, he called out. “And that bottle of good whiskey I know you’ve been hiding from me to make a surprise.”

Neil should have known he wouldn’t be able to hide that he was hiding alcohol from Andrew, yet he was still surprised at how fast Andrew had found out. It hadn’t even been a week since he’d bought the bottle on a whim, bored on the way home from a physiotherapist’s appointment and figuring it’d make a fun pastime to come up with places where Andrew should not find it.

“Don’t be so surprised, you’re not as sneaky as you make everyone believe, Josten”, Andrew called to him from the living room. Then he heard a low “as you can tell, he has deigned to reappear. Bye Renee”.

Fetching cutlery and the hidden bottle as well as two glasses – he figured they could put on a show of being civilized for something that had cost as much – he joined Andrew in the living room.

Andrew nodded approvingly at his choice of menu and let him know that the percentage had reached a number known to him again.

Sitting down, Neil realized what had felt different all the while he had been riding back to the apartment and on until now that he was eating his dinner.

While he was still a bit restless, and very much resentful of no exy and no running, that burning, itching sensation inside of him that had nearly driven him up the walls the past week was gone. While he would still have loved to go for a run, he did not feel a need for it that was almost impossible to supress.

Maybe he’d underestimated walking. He could imagine the look on his physiotherapist’s face if he ever told her that, she’d been nagging him to go for longer walks than just the occasional snack shopping trip or mandatory lap around the block for the past three weeks, but he’d kept brushing her off, thinking it would be useless and just make him more frustrated, as it was like running _except not at all._

No, he’d not admit it to her, but maybe she’d been right and walking could actually help more than just getting the blood circulating in his legs.

 

**

 

The next morning saw Neil getting up and out of bed in the early hours of the morning. “If you’re going running, don’t bother coming back”, Andrew threatened. “Can’t be bothered to deal with the fallout this would cause, though I know a good place or two to hide a body.” Neil was glad he hadn’t mentioned his half mile or so of running from yesterday.

“Just going for a walk”, he reassured Andrew. “Want to join me?”

Andrew took one look out the window at the snow-rain-mush falling down from the sky and shook his head, disgusted at the mere idea of stepping out into that mess, it seemed. “Do take your phone and call me before you freeze to a spot”, he ‘advised’ before Neil left the room.

Figuring he could use something to keep him warm, Neil filled his travel mug with tea, then grabbed his warmest, water-proof jacket and put on some wool socks (hand-knitted, courtesy of Renee) inside his shoes for good measure. It was really not appealing to step outside, he thought, and then called himself out for having grown soft over the years. There was a time when he would not even really have noticed – but that time was gone.

Either way, going outside to stretch his legs and drink his tea with a view of streets, cars and concrete buildings was vastly preferable to sitting around inside like he’d done way too much in the past weeks, nothing much to do other than some tidying up after the cats (and Andrew, who couldn’t seem to be bothered to do the dishes), watching TV and reading books.

He wandered the streets without a real destination in mind, ending up in a small park that he’d passed a few times during runs, but never deemed big or interesting enough to enter. Well, that could change now. He was far from his usual speed, and the park wasn’t that small after all, as it turned out. Just very short in one direction of its rectangular shape, but rather drawn out in the other one.

Before he’d explored all of it, his tea ran out and he was fairly confident he’d start to be chilly before long. It wasn’t even _that_ cold, definitely not below zero, but it seemed a lot colder due to all the rain and snow. The fact that his jacket was only truly waterproof in name did not help. Figuring it would not do to get a cold, least of all for Andrew’s smug triumph over having stayed in, he started his way back to their apartment.

 

**

 

The next couple of days, Neil got back into his prior routine of waking up early some (or most) days and going out for a walk. Thankfully, the weather dried up and he even caught a few rays of the rising sun here and there. It could have been called lovely, the birds chirping away with spring just around the corner, the air still chilly but not cold enough to really be uncomfortable (as long as he wore a decent jacket). Andrew still made a habit of threatening him should he decide to suddenly run or calling him a junkie over his habit (much as he used to do when Neil got up early for runs), but after he’d even conceded to coming along at a slightly later time on a lazy, practice-free Sunday, Neil was that much less inclined to take the threats seriously.

One day, on the way home from his latest physiotherapeutic appointment, an advertisement playing on the bus (he could have taken one of the several cars they owned at Andrew’s insistence, but he’d wanted to stretch his legs and walk there. Besides, it was more time-killing to not take a car) gave him an idea. When Andrew came home from afternoon practice, Neil was sprawled out on the ground in front of the couch, buried under cats and studying the first chapter of a Mandarin textbook.

“Junkie”, was Andrew’s only comment when he saw what Neil was doing, yet he picked up the book when Neil left it to make dinner sometime later. Cooking had never been his forte, and years of excuses such as ‘no time, too much practice / college work / literally anything else’ had not done that any favours.

But he’d picked up a recipe book as well when he’d bought the Mandarin textbook, one that promised step-by-step guides anyone could follow, and was now attempting at asparagus risotto and fried tofu (that their dietician would approve of) as well as vanilla pancakes (for dessert, Andrew would be the only person approving, if any). That, at least, was something he already knew how to do – the vanilla was inspired by his need recipe book and would hopefully be a welcome addition. (It was, though whether Andrew could actually detect its taste under the copious amount of maple syrup he poured on top of the pancake was debatable.)

For his first attempt at risotto, it wasn’t too bad, and the tofu turned out way better than what they’d occasionally had in restaurants (the people there should really learn to add spices such as salt). Andrew did not even complain about the slightly burnt taste – the onions had had a bit too much heat at the start, though perhaps the pancakes sitting on the counter, waiting to be re-heated and eaten, did help with that.

“Adams says I can come to the morning workout again”, Neil said when they were lounging on the couch, having just tidied up the kitchen (well, mainly Neil, while Andrew contributed by making sure there were no pancake leftovers, so that Neil could wash up that pan as well). He’d just seen the message on his phone from their coach.

“Does he now”, Andrew replied in a bored tone. The right corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly, letting Neil know that Andrew probably had something to do with this. Neil knew better than to waste his breath on trying to get him to admit to anything or thanking him, so instead he hovered his right hand a few inches the right of Andrew’s face and waited for a reaction. When Andrew nodded once, Neil put his hand into the hair on the side of Andrew’s head and leaned in to kiss him. While Neil had started out with an innocent enough intention, their kiss quickly deepened and became more heated. As Neil started to suck on the sensitive spots of Andrew’s neck, Andrew bit back a low groan and then pushed Neil back into the cushions, following so he was half on top of him. Andrew unbuttoned Neil’s trousers and stroked over the bulge in his pants a few times almost casually before taking him out and into his mouth. Neil did not bother to suppress his groans like Andrew had. The walls were decently soundproof, or so he hoped. He put one hand into Andrew’s hair and gripped hard onto a couch cushion with the other one, not trusting himself entirely to not start pulling on Andrew’s hair if he had both hands buried in it.

It had been a while, alright? And yeah, maybe he sometime still was like a horny teenager when it came to Andrew. But Andrew was just too damn skilled with this tongue.

“I want you to fuck me” Neil breathed out after a bit, well aware he would not last much longer like this, but somehow not entirely satisfied with the way things were going.

“Your knee”, Andrew said, mouth only inches from Neil’s dick. Neil _did not_ have to suppress a shudder at Andrew’s breath leaving his mouth with the words.

“To hell with my knee.”

Silence.

“Well, not literally”, Neil finally conceded. “But these last weeks, it’s just been so much ‘your knee this, my knee that’, always being careful. You will not even let me blow you!” Neil wasn’t talking about today just then, but rather at the only one (1) other time that they’d more seriously made out since the accident. “We can be careful.”

“Sure. Like you would want to”, Andrew said in a flat voice. “Need I remind you you’re the one telling me to go faster, harder every time? Besides, I hardly think your knee will take kindly to being up on my shoulder, no matter how _carefully_.”

“Fine. I won’t run my mouth.” That was a lie and they both knew it. “And I could always lie on my stomach.”

“No, I won’t have that.”

“You are not like them, Andrew. Even if-“

“I said no. Drop it.” Andrew got up and left Neil on his own on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry,  
> in my defense, I was not planning that, but then Neil really wanted to kiss and get fucked by Andrew...  
> That makes me want to know: who else experiences that the characters in the story kind of get their own ideas and opinions about what's going to happen? like you just set it up and have two ideas and then you start writing and suddenly you're building in ten new things you had no idea were going to happen...?


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They really just need to learn to communicate. But don't we all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has stuck around waiting longer for this chapter :)  
> It has been a while but I am still determined to not let this story die!  
> And yeah, sorry to everyone who thought this would be non-explicit. I kinda liked writing these scences too much.

Neil woke up in the middle of the night, disoriented until he realized he must have fallen asleep on the couch. He was under a blanket that he could not remember getting himself, and King was lying at his side, half on top of him.

Getting up to get a glass of water in the kitchen, a glance at the oven clock told him that it was actually early morning. He briefly considered going for a walk already since he did not feel tired enough to go back to sleep, but four in the morning was maddeningly early, even for Neil. Resigning himself to staying inside for the moment – he’d get out later anyway to go to their team’s morning workout – he retrieved his Mandarin textbook from where Andrew had left it on the kitchen table. At least he’d get a good head start by studying in his way too much free time, seeing as he did not know most words after only looking at them once.

A good two hours later, Andrew made his way into the kitchen for a cup of sugar and milk with coffee. Despite the team dietician’s best efforts (and some resulting changes to his diet), there was only so far his diet could be improved. Neil abandoned his textbook and tea to join him and have some coffee as well. They did not talk to one another, and while it was not an unusual thing between them, today the silence felt less comfortable.

Or maybe that was Neil reading into things.

By the time they were in the car, headed to the gym, Neil was certain that he was not reading into things. That long a silence (apart from Andrew’s ‘are you ready?’ before he left the apartment and led the way to the car) was unusual, but neither of them was the type for small talk, and Andrew did not seem to want to talk about last night, either. Andrew’s expression, gaze focussed on the road, gave away nothing, but the fingers of his right hand were tapping the steering wheel rapidly, a sure sign he was craving a cigarette, a cigarette that he could not have.

 

**

Really, it should be forbidden to fabricate shorts that made a man’s ass look that good. Andrew was starting to consider killing the designer of Neil’s entire wardrobe while Neil was doing his physio exercises all but in Andrew’s face. Not just any exercises, of course, but only the ones that showed off his ass. Needless to say that he did not turn his front side towards Andrew while doing so.

And that was not the first of it. Yesterday, when they’d come back from Neil’s first session back at the gym, Neil had _accidentally_ spilled tea on his crotch.

Well, come to think of it, that might truly have been an accident on Neil’s part. But the things it did to Andrew. And Neil putting on his tightest pair of jeans (‘there were no others left’, his gaze said) afterwards was definitely not a coincidence.

Nor was it the last. Neil, apparently done with his exercises, went to drink some water off to the side, leaving Andrew to do his weights in peace.

Except he couldn’t, because his memory now of course presented him in perfect detail with the way Neil had looked in front of him, ass on display for Andrew (and the whole rest of the ream) to see. Only the memories of just now started to get mixed in with older ones, no less vivid for their age, from back at Palmetto State, where Neil had done the exact same thing at one point. It had worked then. They’d been alone in the gym and ended up making out on the bench where Andrew had been lifting his weights.

Truly bothered now, Andrew let the dumbbell clatter down and left for the showers. The workout would be officially over in fifteen minutes anyway and he doubted anyone would appreciate him committing homicide on the spot. Neil had definitely been aiming at dragging those memories to the surface.

He cursed himself for his predictability when he stepped into their locker room’s showers and realized he was not alone. Neil was waiting for him under the hot water, turned towards him, eyes locked onto Andrew’s, his whole naked appearance a challenge.

Andrew’s cock went from mildly interested to hard in the time it took him to process this all. It was pathetic, really. He told himself to walk away.

His feet didn’t move.

Neil’s gaze dropped down from Andrew’s face ever so quickly, before he smirked and then started to stroke his cock with one hand, almost absent-mindedly, his eyes once more locked onto Andrew’s. Andrew refused to break their eye contact, to give in and look down at what he knew Neil was doing just from the teasing way he looked at Andrew and from the way Andrew saw the muscles in his right arm move out of the corner of his eye.

 _Move,_ Andrew once more commanded his feet, and this time they did, except not where he’d wanted them to. Against all resolution, he was walking towards Neil, whose grin took on a triumphant edge. He forced himself to walk past Neil, to a shower stall in the far corner.

“Stay”, he told Neil when Neil turned around to follow him, but he did not tell him to look away. Then he turned on the warm water and once he stood under it, still in his pants, finally allowed himself to start stroking his dick. It was again pathetic how little it took until he came, though considering that their team would soon finish their workout and crowd the locker room, it was probably rather fortunate as well.

Neil was not so fortunate, or then he just did not know where he should have his priorities. Andrew steadfastly refused to look at Neil while he brought himself off, instead fixing his gaze on a tile on the wall, but it seemed Neil had been too busy watching Andrew to take care of himself.

“The others will be back any minute”, Andrew informed him as he wrapped his towel around his waist and put his armbands back on. Just as he was walking to the shower room doorway, the locker room door opened to let the first one of their teammates in. Andrew stopped in the doorway to give Neil a look that said ‘hurry up or it’ll be your problem to deal with’, and then remained standing in the doorway so that Neil would be shielded from the other’s eyes by his body.

Neil seemed to finally get the hint and wrapped his own towel around himself, hiding the slight bulge as best as he could, and then walked closely behind Andrew to where their clean clothes were waiting for them on the bench.

 

**

 

“You won’t get your way like this”, Andrew pointed out on their way home.

“You sure?” Neil asked. “I quite enjoyed what I got out of it. Would have even more, if our teammates hadn’t walked in.”

“Yeah, that was really hard to anticipate”, Andrew said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

So maybe it hadn’t been the best spot, with that Neil had to agree. But it had got him what he wanted, or the first step of the way, at least. Almost absent-mindedly, he started to trace his fingers over his slowly fading erection through his jeans.

“Stop that”, Andrew snapped before Neil even truly realized what he’d been doing.

“Am I bothering you?” Neil asked.

Andrew did not reply, instead pulling the car over to the side and motioning for Neil to get out when he did. Pinning Neil against the side of the car he asked ‘yes or no?’, only to pull him down with an almost brutal force at Neil’s answering ‘yes’. The kiss was almost bruising, and over way too quickly. Before Neil realized it, Andrew had pulled away and got back into the car to drive off.

Cursing Andrew out in all the languages he knew – he definitely needed to learn some Mandarin curse words soon as he now realized he did not know any – Neil started his awkward journey home.

At least the prick had not left him too far from home, but then again, that was probably just luck on Neil’s part that he’d not started prodding sooner.

As it was, he estimated it would take him half an hour to get home. Twenty-five minutes into the walk, his phone (miraculously in his jeans pocket and not in the car) started to ring. Seeing it was Andrew calling, he picked up.

“Are you home yet?”

“No. About five minutes left.”

“Call me when you get there.”

After this call, Neil was only a little surprised to find their apartment locked and empty (except for the cats). Judging from which shoes and coats were missing and that neither of their gym bags were anywhere to be seen, Andrew had not even come home but gone straight somewhere else.

As instructed, Neil called Andrew once he was sat down on the couch with the cats draped around him and a pot of tea nearby.

“I’m home, which raises the question: Where are you?”

“On my way to meeting up with Renee. Might not make it back tonight. I told Adams that you have an appointment overlapping with tomorrow’s morning workout, and not to expect me for any practice sessions either today or tomorrow.”

“I’m sure that went down well”, Neil remarked, to which Andrew hung up the call.

Great. Wasn’t that just splendid. Neil took to cursing Andrew out again and turned it into an impromptu Mandarin lesson. Not one of those that would earn him any friends if he ever put it to use around people that spoke the language, but one that left him pretty satisfied in its aftermath.

After that, one nature documentary blended into the next one after he turned on the TV and absent-mindedly watched the spectacular shots. He wasn’t exactly as moved by it as was probably the goal of the people who’d made it, but it made for a calming distraction.

It wasn’t until Matt called him and he saw the time on his phone that he realized how much time had passed. It was almost nine in the evening. Turning off the TV and getting up to stretch his legs for the first time in a few hours, he saw that the world outside the windows was dark.

“Hey Neil, how’s it going?” Matt asked enthusiastically from the other end.

Neil did not reply, but Matt hardly gave him a chance to do so anyway. “Did you see Kevin’s last goal tonight?” he went on almost immediately. “Incredible. I can’t even resent his team for beating us with that shot, it was so beautiful.”

Shit. Neil had totally forgotten about the Chicago Lions _–_ Matt’s team – playing against the New York Eagles that Kevin was on.

“You didn’t watch it”, Matt realized at the same time that Neil realized he’d forgotten. Neil winced at the disappointed undertone in Matt’s voice, however slight it was.

“I….”, he started, but trailed off. What would he say? Apologize? Find an excuse? Blame it on Andrew? On his stupid knee? But then the blame could be lain at Kevin’s feet in the end, and it wasn’t like Kevin had fallen on purpose.

“It’s alright”, Matt said. “I know you’re having a tough time right now, and it can’t be easy to watch all of us run around the court while you’re on mandatory exy break.”

 _While you’re not sure you’ll even play again._ It wasn’t said, but Neil heard it just the same in his head.

“So, what did you have for dinner?” Matt prompted when the silence grew too long. Hardly a smooth change of topic but Neil would gladly take it. Except this was a hardly better topic, probably.

“Uh… some tea”, he said. He had gone to refill he pot not too long ago.

“I know ‘tea’ is synonymous to ‘dinner’ in Britain, but something tells me this is not an instance of your British accent coming through”, Matt said.

“I had some crackers as well”, Neil added when he spotted the packaging lying next to him on the couch. He’d got up to get a bag of crackers at some point and eaten most of them, so that counted, right?

“Yeah, I bet they were some of those that are compressed dust with a pinch of salt”, Matt countered. He wasn’t that far off, and why did people know Neil so well? Bluffing had been a lot easier when they did not.

“You still like tomato and eggplant, right?” Matt prompted.

‘Like’ might be stretching things a bit, but he could put up with these vegetables a lot better than most others, so Neil replied with a yes, followed by “why are you asking me this?”.

There was a bit of a break at the other end before Matt replied with “I’ve just ordered you some vegetable and tofu noodles to be delivered to your place, from that noodle heaven spot near your apartment”.

Neil remembered Matt insisting on eating there on the occasions where him and Dan had come to visit them (more like visit Neil while Andrew tolerated their presence so long as they spent the night at a hotel) because they made ‘the best curry and vegetable noodles’, according to Matt.

They were alright, Neil figured, and they had the bonus of letting you pick exactly what vegetables to add and not add to your pasta.

“Good, now that that’s done: How are things with Andrew?” Matt continued with yet another smooth change of topic.

“Did he tell you to check up on me or what”, Neil said, incredulously. “Things are fine.”

“Yeah, like you know the meaning of ‘fine’”, Matt laughed. “No, seriously, he did not, but Renee suggested you might want to talk to someone that is not her.

“To be honest, I’m surprised you guys held out that long”, Matt continued. “It’s been what, almost four weeks now? Remember how I got on Dan’s nerve within the first two days of my bad wrist sprain and she made me move out for two weeks in the end?”

Neil did not know what to say, but Matt seemed to take his silence the wrong way.

“Hey, it’s fairly normal for couples to have fights. While yes, it’s not really nice and not something to cultivate, it’s not the end of the world. Maybe you both need some space right now – you are alone tonight, aren’t you?” Matt barely waited for Neil’s affirmative hum before going on. “And whatever’s got you both upset, probably won’t even be that big any more when Andrew gets back.” As if. “Or then you just talk it out.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it”, Neil said to that. “And I really doubt you or Andrew would appreciate me talking to you about our sex life, so no.”

“I can do without that indeed”, Matt said after a while. “But really, and I’m surprised I’m telling you this – well, not so much, considering it’s me – you guys should really talk about whatever’s bothering you. Talking about it really is an important part with sex. Something not only straight people need to learn, apparently.” Matt already sounded sorry when he said this, but silently, Neil thought he probably agreed.

“I don’t know how to start that conversation”, Neil admitted. “Nor how to hold it.” Sure, they talked a bit, but mainly just to assure each other that what they did or were about to do or had done was all right, and mostly in short half-sentences.

 “You’ll just have to suck it up there”, Matt said. “It gets easier with practice, in case that’s any consolation. Plus, there is probably nothing else that will solve your problem in the long run.”

Neil had been starting to notice that, as all his attempts at getting Andrew to make out with him or even just kiss him had ended them up right here, Neil alone in the apartment and Andrew likely exchanging hits with Renee. Or maybe not anymore, it had been hours since their phone call, after all.

“So, I just go ‘Andrew, we should talk’, or ‘we need to talk’, or what?” he asked after a while.

Matt was moaning pitifully at the other end, while also at the same time kind of sounding as though he was trying very hard not to laugh.

“Oh Neil, you-“, he started laughing for real, then. “I’m sorry”, he said after a while. “Promise me you will not say ‘we need to talk’. Unless-“, now it sounded almost as if Matt was trying hard no to cry.

“Unless what?” Neil asked, fed up with not knowing what Matt was onto.

“Unless you want to break up with him?”

“No, why would I want that?”

“Well, just making sure”, Matt said. “Because that is what ‘we need to talk’ translates into.”

“Oh.” Why did people need to make things so complicated?

“Yeah.”

“Well, thanks for warning me. I won’t say that”, Neil said. “I think that’s the food you ordered me”, he added when the doorbell rang. He said his goodbyes and went to open the door, feeling a bit hungry at last when he received the food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking there will be one or two more chapters, but I won't definitely put the number down yet as I can never be sure how many ideas for yet another chapter I'll get - I believe I was thinking this'd be three chapters at some point ;)


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Communication. Some at least. Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it has been very long, and I am sorry that I kept you waiting. Thanks to everyone who did stick around and is still reading this.

Andrew came home to three cats chasing around the hallway. King nearly skidded into his left foot and diverted at the last second. Almost at the same time, a black fur ball chased by a white fur ball could not make the turn and careened into Andrew’s right leg. Andrew dropped Neil’s duffle from his right shoulder, unfortunately missing the newest nuisance in their household by a few inches as she sped away again.

“They’ve been like this all day”, Neil commented from the living room doorway. “Don’t know what got into them.”

“Did you let them drink your tea?”

Neil’s eyes widened in horror. “I wouldn’t. Caffeine is probably poisonous for them, I think. Besides, not like they need it, hyper-active as they are without it.”

Andrew filed that away for the next time Neil wanted to go for a run at any time of the day, or an exy court in the dead of night. The cats were not the only inhabitants of their apartment capable of hyper-activity on a semi-regular basis, and he was sure Neil would react with delight to the suggestion of going without coffee (or tea, for that matter – what was it about _that_ beverage that had him drink it voluntarily?) for any number of days.

After dropping his own training duffel from his other shoulder and shoving both of them toward the wall and out of the way, Andrew made his way into the kitchen to get a spoon for his (small) ice cream. Technically, he was not supposed to eat any at all, and usually he stuck to that, but there were days that called for drastic measures. Such as days when you’d fought with your boyfriend the day before, then spent the other half of that day beating and getting beaten by your best friend, and then the better part of the following day talking to said best friend. It hadn’t been an easy talk, at least not for the hour or so during which Renee had dictated (more or less, not like she’d force Andrew to do anything) what they were talking about and she’d chosen him and Neil as her favoured subject.

Settling on the couch next to Neil, who had apparently returned there to read his Mandarin textbook, he offered him a spoonful of ice cream after a few bites.

Taking it for the peace offering that it probably was, Neil accepted.

“I know you don’t want to hurt me. By having sex, I mean”, Neil started after a couple of moments.

Andrew did not reply, but he lifted his gaze to look at Neil and set his ice cream onto the couch table.

Encouraged by Andrew’s attention, Neil continued. “I get that. Really I do.”

With a small scoff, Andrew said: “Did not seem like it yesterday.”

“Yeah, that was… I’m sorry if I’ve inconvenienced you. But it was actually honest on my part, if a bit drastic.”

_A bit._

“I don’t want to go without sex for several more months. Or another day, for that matter.”

“That desperate, Josten? You could always make use of your right hand. It can be used for things other than holding an exy racket, you know.”

Predictably, Neil replied with “it’s not the same”.

 ~~Predictably~~ , Andrew responded: “no shit.”

“You know what I mean. I’ve told you this before.” Andrew remembered. “I mean that it’s not the same as in that masturbation does not really do anything for me. To be exact, I’m only half-satisfied afterwards at best and so bored out that I stop in the middle at worst.”

Ugh, that sounded worth pitying. If one did pity. Which one did not. Still.

“You, on the other hand, you’re way better at it”, Neil went on.

Andrew doubted it was a matter of skill, or at least of skill alone.

“I have got you off while you were injured”, Andrew remarked, choosing not to discuss their individual skills at getting another person off at this moment.

“Yes, but you were treating me as though I was breakable throughout it all.”

“I was more careful than I would typically have been. There’s really not need for you to re-tear that ligament.” Andrew’s look said: can you blame me? Would _you_ be any different?

They both knew that, no, Neil wouldn’t. From experience.

Reluctantly, after a pause, Neil conceded. “You’re right. However, that’s actually not truly the issue for me, here. Or not the most of it, anyway.” He paused to take a deep breath. “I like it when you fuck me. A lot.” He added that last bit after a pause, almost as if considering whether this was something Andrew would want to hear. After all those years, still, these words coming from Neil did _something_ to Andrew, and he wasn’t sure what. He wasn’t _angry,_ per se, as he might have expected. Neil continued. “And I don’t want to wait for half a year or, frankly, another day, until we do this again. Unless you don’t want to, obviously.”

Andrew stated the obvious, and replied to Neil’s indirect question: “You would know it if I did not want to. But I can’t see a way to do this without jeopardizing your knee.” Or have you lying on your stomach with your back to me _like they did to me._ He did not have to say it out loud for them both to hear it.

Quietly, after a while, Neil said: “I can. But I know you’re not comfortable with that idea. I just want you to know, that, should you ever change your mind, now or when my knee has healed, I will be comfortable with it.”

 _Don’t always me_ was a reflexive retort burning on Andrew’s tongue, but he didn’t say it. His gaze told Neil not to promise such things, now or ever, because you never knew. But he kept his mouth shut because he knew Neil, and he knew that Neil meant this, that Neil trusted him, something that still baffled him, in moments like this, after all this time.

“Do you want ice for that?” Neil asked, breaking the silence that had lasted for a few minutes after their last words. He was hovering his hand over the left side of Andrew’s face where his eye was blackened thanks to not being quick enough the day before.

“Renee already insisted on ice last night”, Andrew said. “I think it’s too late now, anyway.”

“Some of my wonderful bruise cream then?” Neil suggested. With the amount that Neil got pushed around in a single game, it was a wonder that Abby hadn’t already found something similar for him back in college. Their current team nurse had put up with only one game and black and blue Neil afterwards before going on an all-out research spree and turning up with a cream that was only just short of magic. Applied as advised, it caused bruises to heal in about half their usual time. Almost. Neil had fought it tooth and nail, of course, until their coach had got him to apply it by threatening to bench him for every other game.

Andrew considered what he’d think of someone’s hand touching his face right now, but their fight, if it had been one, had been resolved, and Neil was long past the point of being just someone, anyway. He nodded.

The cream was cool, a comfortable contrast to the warm apartment and Neil’s warm finger tips, and Neil’s touch was as careful as if the thought Andrew was fragile. Which should have made Andrew angry, and it did, but really, it was also a bit like looking into a mirror. He knew, rationally, that Neil was extra-careful because he did not want to cause Andrew more pain by putting too much pressure on the fresh bruise. The same way in which Andrew took more care lately when kissing Neil, so as not to accidentally hurt his knee. So he took a deep breath and used one of Bee’s oldest mental exercises to get past the anger.

When he was done, so was Neil, sitting right in front of him with a frown.

“Everything all right?” Neil asked.

“Yes. Just got a taste of what I did to you all this time by wanting to take care and not jeopardize your knee.”

“Delicious, isn’t it?” Neil teased.

Andrew glared at him. ‘Shut up’ burned on his tongue, but he already knew what Neil’s reply would be, and he was just fine with skipping to the good part. “Yes or no?” he asked.

“Yes.” Neil breathed his response over Andrew’s lips.

Andrew closed the small gap between their lips and kissed Neil, without holding back, like he hadn’t in a long time. It felt like coming home, truly, for the first time that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is really short, but it did not feel right to put the next scene (already written) in here, so I'm ending here.  
> This is what'll be happening next (among other things):
> 
> “Why?” Neil finally asked.  
> “So you can get out of the apartment and go fast and tire yourself, all while not breaking your knee again”, Andrew replied.
> 
> You might also have noticed that I've added a chapter count. I think the next one is the last one, unless I get new ideas I need to incorporate or want to split the next or add an epilogue. We'll see, but I'm hoping it'll help my writing process to have an idea of where and how much further I'm headed.


End file.
